


Bruises

by Arsenic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-01
Updated: 2007-01-01
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Sirius wants to feel.





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ravingraven. (Thanks to Femme for the idea!)

It was after midnight when Harry noticed. It was odd that it had taken him that long, given that Remus and he had done nothing but watch after Sirius since one of the by-products of Hermione's spell to destroy the horcruxes had resulted in some considerable side effects, not the least of which was the disturbance of whatever lay beyond the Veil. Hermione had tried explaining it to Harry. He'd caught onto the part about soul energy being interconnected and the Veil storing that energy once it was broken off from the living world.

Remus, he thought, had understood the rest.

Harry, for the most part, didn't care. Sirius was alive and whole--perhaps even a bit more so than before the Veil. The metaphysics of it were, no doubt, fascinating--if one was into that sort of thing--but ultimately unimportant.

Sirius was alive. And he had been at the Weasley's New Years' party, along with just about everyone else Harry knew, until a short while before midnight. Harry had been keeping an eye on him up until that point. Sirius had come back from the Veil not wholly comfortable with either his body or the physical world around him. He was still in the phase that privately reminded Harry of children who hadn't quite learned to walk--the stage where they bumbled around and bounced off just about everything.

Sirius handled it largely by finding somewhere to sit and sticking with that, which was why, when Ginny dragged Harry off to see the broom she'd bought herself, he didn't worry about leaving him for a few minutes.

Only, a "few minutes" had turned into the better part of an hour when Arthur had pulled him aside to inquire how Auror training was working out for him; Molly wanted to talk to him about his plans for the new year; Bill needed to ask a question about a curse he'd been trying to unravel; Ron tried to get him to ask Hermione if she'd maybe think about possibly kissing him at the stroke of midnight, and well, time was only so fluid. So after Harry had toasted to a new year--for the first time in all his life feeling that perhaps the turning of the calendar year might mean something--he looked around for the person he most wanted to wish future happiness upon and found him not in the spot he was expecting to find him. Nor any other in the near vicinity, for that matter.

Harry touched his hand to his wand--tucked, to Moody's everlasting chagrin, in his back pocket--and casted a locating charm. Then he followed the tug of magic outside and into the shed behind the house.

Harry called, "Sirius?"

Sirius said, " _Lumos_ ," and the new wand he'd recently acquired from Ollivander's lit up. Harry walked toward the small circle of light. Sirius was curled up against the wall, huddled in on himself.

Harry asked, "You mind?"

Sirius motioned to his side and Harry sat down in the indicated space, tucking his knees to his chest. He handed Sirius his nearly-full glass of champagne. "You missed the toast."

Sirius muttered a staying charm to keep his wand glowing and set it on the ground to take the glass from Harry. He took a long pull of the liquid.

"Cold?" Harry asked.

Sirius looked at Harry, a smile playing at his lips. There was a new bruise on his cheek, and Harry wondered what item of Arthur's random, discarded paraphenalia he had run into on his way through the shed. Harry put his hand to the spot. "I could probably heal-- Well, maybe not. But Charlie's quite good with basic healing charms."

"I like it," Sirius said.

That brought Harry up short.

"You and Remus have been trying so hard to keep me comfortable."

"We don't want--" Harry frowned. They didn't want this time to be the same, but he could see how a little bruise might not be at all the same as the misery of Dementors bearing down on a person, of cold stone walls and infested food. He could see how a little bruise might just be enough to remind a person that he was alive when he hadn't been, that he was safe and comfortable and that the little bruise was just that: little.

"Good champagne," Sirius said.

"Is it?" Harry asked. Fleur had brought it. It seemed like the sort of thing Fleur might know about, but Harry wouldn't. And he had been too busy watching Hermione roll her eyes and take charge of midnight kissing shenanigans to pay much attention to the drink as it went down.

Sirius passed the flute back to Harry. "Taste it. Pay attention this time."

Harry tipped the glass to his lips. The liquid was sharp on his tongue for a moment as the bubbles hit and then it smoothed out to a deeper, richer taste with just the slightest hint of sweetness. He swallowed. "Oh."

Sirius' smile widened. "Go on, finish. Slowly."

Harry took another sip. "What are you doing out here?"

"Sometimes, the world gets a bit loud."

Harry, who had never been dead, at least not yet, nodded. "Yeah." He held the champagne glass out to Sirius, "Sure you don't want anymore?"

"Not from the glass," Sirius said, and surged up just slightly. His lips met Harry's with a force he most likely hadn't intended. Harry nearly dropped the champagne. Sirius' lips were cold, but Harry didn't mind. He thought, for a moment, _this must be what a little bruising feels like_ and then he swept his tongue over Sirius' lower lip.

Harry had never known what to do with another person's kisses, not even Ginny's when he'd been quite sure that lust was love and would never _ever_ fade, not even after nearly a year apart in which their experiences were as disparate as the magical from the mundane. He had never known until now, when Sirius was at once terribly fragile and so very, incredibly solid against him. Harry let his hand creep to his back where he could touch his wand and banish the glass with a thought.

Then his hands were free to burrow in Sirius' hair, inviting Sirius to use his hands as he so chose. It took a bit more effort for Sirius, his fingers bumping against Harry's arms, brushing over his shoulders before they wrapped behind Harry's neck, his skull. Sirius pulled his lips off of Harry's just enough to murmur, "Real, so very--" but Harry wasn't interested in words. He could ask Sirius what he'd had to say later. He could ask and Sirius would tell him and there wouldn't be secrets or unspoken truths between them, because whatever else, Sirius had always been one to give him answers when Harry had found a way to ask questions.

Harry was sucking at the corner of Sirius' lip, thinking about sliding his hands down, down to where a mere three buttons kept Harry from what he wanted to touch. He startled at the words, "Harry? Sirius?"

He spun around, just able to make out a figure in the doorway. From behind him, Sirius called out, "We're here, Remus."

Harry could hear Remus' sigh of relief, even knowing it wasn't loud enough that he should have. He felt a moment of guilt. He should have told someone where he was going. Remus called, "Are you coming back to the party? It's freezing out here."

"Harry's brilliant at warming charms," Sirius said, laughing softly into Harry's ear.

"Well. . .all right," Remus said.

"We'll join in a bit," Harry said. "Everything's fine. I promise."

Remus said, "I trust you. I'll tell everyone you stepped out for a bit of air?"

"Thank you, Moony," Sirius said, his voice low, his hand slipping to Harry's stomach.

Harry listened to the crunch of Remus' retreating footsteps. He said, "It _is_ cold out here."

"I like it," Sirius said. And then, "Warm me."

Harry didn't use a charm.


End file.
